


in some few words

by magumarashi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, First Impressions, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: G'raha Tia had heard much and more of the Warrior of Light's heroic deeds. The woman behind the legend, however, seemed to bring surprises at every turn.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	in some few words

**Author's Note:**

> After referencing this sequence of events in multiple fics I finally decided to get off my ass and... write it out?
> 
> For context, my WoL is a Viera named Aoife Asturmaux. (Her first name is pronounced "Eefa".) I put her backstory on [the Lodestone](https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/27819823/) so I won't repeat it here, but the only detail I feel is super relevant for this is that she grew up in Coerthas with her adoptive parents, hence the Elezen last name. For the events of 2.0 she had been glamouring herself to appear as an Elezen as a self defense mechanism (read: i started on the free trial and then used the fantasia you get from praetorium to turn her into a bun).
> 
> I've alluded to super shy/quiet ARR Aoife in a couple of previous fics but now I finally got to write her lmao...

G’raha Tia had heard the rumors: that the hero who had slain Gaius van Baelsar, the one they called “Warrior of Light,” was said to be a woman tall in stature, with long silver hair and a fine countenance besides. _A Roegadyn lass, surely_ , he thought to himself from his perch high in the trees of Urth’s Gift. _Else an Elezen, though I suppose even a Hyuran Highlander would seem tall from my vantage point…_

G’raha fiddled with the small pouch in his hand—within was a special water-aspected ore that this Warrior of Light had been tasked with finding. He’d been able to collect the amount she needed in the time she took to learn where to find it, so now all that was left was to wait. The chance to test wits against a vaunted hero of the realm was an opportunity that the young Miqo’te wouldn’t miss for the world. He wondered whether she would be keen to play along…

G’raha’s ears perked as footsteps signalled an adventurer’s approach. From the sound and frequency he guessed them to belong to his quarry: they were the footfalls of someone with a long stride, punctuated by the telltale _clink_ of plate armor. He leaned forward, trying to find the best view through the branches without revealing his position.

The woman who soon appeared in the clearing surely matched the description he’d expected: she was tall, yes, with light hair that reached below the shoulder. What he had _not_ expected were the enormous leporine ears protruding from the top of her head. Nor, when she glanced around in confusion and turned her gaze toward him, did he expect her to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

_By the twelve… who is she?_

* * *

G’raha Tia nearly fell out of the tree that day; but he managed to keep his composure long enough to deliver the challenge he’d planned for so carefully. It was a mean trick he’d played, looking back on it: had he known his rival would be such a rare beauty, he would have stayed his hand. But having committed to the farce, he had no choice but to see it to its conclusion (though he did concede a premature defeat). He cited his admiration of her prowess to be the reason he let her win their contest, but if he was being fully honest, it was because he would have hated to leave a sour first impression on a woman whose beauty had charmed him in an instant.

To his great relief, Aoife Asturmaux didn’t seem to be holding it against him. On the contrary, she seemed keen to work with him—well, perhaps “keen” was an assumption on his part. The so-called Warrior of Light was, in point of fact, a much quieter and more withdrawn woman than the rumors would have one believe. She spoke only when spoken to, and even then would usually answer questions with a wordless nod or shake of the head. Cid Garlond assured him that this behavior was normal for her, but the Miqo’te still found himself wondering whether Aoife really was the hero everyone made her out to be. Her power was undeniable; that much was clear. She would readily point her lance at foes much larger than herself and emerge victorious. But she didn’t really have the charisma that he had assumed would accompany someone with such a lauded title as “Warrior of Light.” 

He wondered about this discrepancy for a little while, and one evening while the team took a load off in the Seventh Heaven, he resolved to find out what he could learn from her.

Aoife sat mostly by herself at a table in the corner; listening to the conversations around her but not really participating in them. By her side was a fledgling dodo, which G’raha understood to be a treasured companion of hers: he rarely saw her without the bird nearby. Her ashen eyes were cast downward, watching the dodo peck at crumbs and peanut shells on the tavern floor.

“Anyone sitting here?” he asked casually, indicating to the empty chair at her table. Aoife looked up at him and shook her head, ears bobbing as she did so. He took the chair in hand and spun it around so that he could rest his arms on the chair back when he sat.

“So you’re the famous Warrior of Light,” he said. Aoife nodded to him politely. “All heroes come from somewhere, though. Where do you hail from, Miss Asturmaux?”

“... Coerthas…” Aoife said quietly.

“Just Coerthas?” G’raha pressed. “Nowhere in particular?”

“I’m just from a little farm village…” she said, looking away. “People haven’t usually heard of it.”

“I see…” G’raha was able to extrapolate that she’d long since stopped trying to give the specific name. “Coerthas” was more illustrative than the name of a tiny village no one had heard of. Strange, though, that a Viera would claim a home in Coerthas… 

“Um…” said Aoife. “And you?”

“Ah—it’s nothing to write home about,” G’raha answered. “I grew up in the G clan’s main village before striking out to Sharlayan and enrolling with the Students of Baldesion. I’d always dreamed of studying history, and learning more about the Allagans—I can’t explain why, but I’ve always felt a sort of connection to them, distant though they are… Ah, but listen to me prattle on when _you’re_ the one I’m interested in hearing from! I would know why _you_ first struck out as an adventurer, Miss Asturmaux.” 

“To… help my parents?” Aoife responded. “Sorry… I don’t have a more interesting excuse…”

“Oh, no, not at all!” said G’raha, shaking his hands in a reassuring gesture. “Your parents are lucky to have such a caring daughter. May I ask…?”

“What happened to them?” Aoife finished for him.

“N-not in so many words, of course!” said G’raha, flushing a little. He’d hoped that by trailing off before actually finishing the question, he wouldn’t come off as insensitive. “But, yes…”

“It’s okay,” said Aoife. “They’re just merchants. After the Calamity, business dried up…”

“Ah. Because Coerthas plunged into an endless winter, I’m guessing?”

Aoife graced him with another of her stoic nods.

“I see. Well, it’s quite noble of you to help them.” G’raha nodded to himself, tail flicking from side to side. “I’m sure your recent rise to fame has been a boon to them as well—there must be no shortage of folks with tasks to do and rewards to give.”

“Mm.” Aoife nodded again, this time with an affirmative hum.

_By the twelve, she’s so quiet!! I hope I’m not annoying her…_

“Er… I hope you don’t mind me asking,” G’raha went on. “But I would love to hear about your adventures sometime, if you don’t mind sharing them…”

Aoife looked at him quizzically, one ear alert while the other more lax.

“W-well! As a historian, of course, I’m naturally drawn to those who are making names for themselves,” G’raha offered a hasty excuse. “I’ve had my studies to focus on, and no time to dip my toes in adventuring—but I love to hear tales of derring-do from accomplished adventurers. And you, no doubt, have some unique tales to tell.”

Aoife fidgeted in her seat a little, and G’raha wondered whether he’d overstepped his bounds. But before he could open his mouth to apologize, the Warrior of Light spoke up.

“There’s so many… It’s hard to think of one of the top of my head,” she admitted. “Though, actually… do you know what Dragoons are?”

The question caught him off guard.

“Dragoons…” he repeated. “Ah, I’ve heard of them! They’re the knights from Isghard that ride into battle on the backs of dragons!”

“W-well, they don’t really ride dragons…” said Aoife. “They, um, kill them.”

“Oh.” 

“B-but it’s okay,” said Aoife quickly. “The important thing is that Dragoons mostly use lances to fight. Once I had, um, made a name for myself at the Lancer’s Guild, Ywain said I should go to the Observatorium in Coerthas and find a Dragoon named Alberic to continue my training.” 

G’raha nodded, indicating that he was listening.

“Anyway, I went up north to Coerthas and found Alberic, and he asked me to help him track down a Dragoon who’d gone rogue,” Aoife continued, “And not just any rogue Dragoon—the Azure Dragoon, who’s supposed to be the strongest of them all…” 

G’raha Tia could hardly believe his ears. This woman had hardly spoken the entire time he’d known her, and somehow the floodgates had opened and the words were pouring forth. She recounted her Dragoon training in great detail: how she’d tracked down the rogue Azure Dragoon only for Nidhogg’s eye itself to acknowledge her potential with the lance. The Azure Dragoon had not taken kindly to this, and had declared her his rival—challenging her to feats of strength and tests of courage to see if she truly deserved to claim the title. She told the story of their dramatic encounter at Boulder Downs, where Estinien announced his intent to hold a duel to settle the score. How she met his challenge at Steel Vigil, blow for blow, and he fled in embarrassment after how handily she defeated him… 

All the while G’raha listened, rapt. Whether a few minutes passed or an hour he couldn’t say, though he was so captivated by her storytelling he wouldn’t have minded if she’d talked straight on through the night. When her tale finally reached its end, she seemed to realize how long she’d been rambling and fell into a self-conscious silence.

“Oh…” she said. “I’m sorry, that was a lot to tell in one go…”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” said G’raha. “Your story was so amazing, I was on the edge of my seat! Two rival Dragoons, competing for the title of strongest in a dramatic duel… How I wish I could have been there to see it! It’s the stuff of legends! And to think this was just _one_ of your adventures…”

For the first time since they’d met, the corners of Aoife’s mouth came up in a smile.

“Thank you…” she said bashfully. “I… I actually had a lot of fun telling it…”

G’raha’s heart swelled.

“Good!” he said, grinning. “I would love to hear more of your adventures, Miss Asturmaux. You’re a much better storyteller than you give yourself credit for.”

“Um…” the Warrior of Light looked over at him, smiling warmly. “Just Aoife is fine.”

G’raha’s ears twitched in surprise, and color rushed to his face.

“Oh!” he said. “Er—of course! Aoife… I look forward to hearing more of your stories.” 

_Twelve take me, but her smile is so radiant! I almost can’t look at her lest my heart stop entirely…!_

G’raha had little time to bask in her radiance, for the Viera soon opened her mouth in a somewhat unbecoming yawn. The spell thus broken, G’raha took a glance around the tavern—only to notice that the other members of NOAH seemed to have taken their leave some time ago. The Seventh Heaven was mostly empty now, save a few regulars prone to drinking into the wee hours. 

“I suppose it’s getting late,” said G’raha.

“Mm.” Aoife answered him. “I should probably head back to the Rising Stones… But, um… thank you for talking to me.”

“Of course,” said G’raha, flashing her a cheeky grin. “Anytime you’d like someone to talk to, I would be more than happy to oblige.”

“Thank you…” There was a scraping sound as Aoife stood up from her chair, stretching as she did so. G’raha quickly looked away, as the shirt she normally wore was open in the middle, and from this angle he could see quite a bit more than he ought to. He found himself wondering why she preferred that shirt in particular—even going so far as to glamour it over her Dragoon armor, which it did not match—but that would have to be a question for another time. 

“Goodnight… G’raha,” said Aoife, calling his attention back to her. He looked up, focusing as much as he could on her eyes.

“Goodnight, Aoife,” he responded, smiling. “Rest well. There’s much and more to be done tomorrow, and I look forward to hearing all about it.”

Aoife smiled back to him and nodded one last time before making her way back to the rear of the tavern, dodo waddling faithfully behind her. Once she’d disappeared through the doors to the Scions’ hideaway, G’raha stood up and gave a stretch himself.

“Now to see whether the chocobo porters are still running at this hour…” he said, to no one in particular. “I’d wager Rammbroes will give me an earful for staying out so late on the eve of our excursion…”

But even if a stern lecture awaited him back at St. Coinach’s Find, G’raha couldn’t help feeling light enough to walk on air.

* * *

Though the hour was late, some few Scions were still burning the midnight oil in the Rising Stones. F’lhammin seemed to be cleaning up the Scions’ own bar counter, and Coultenet could be seen languidly reading a book at one of the tables. Hoary Boulder was noisily dozing off in the chair across from him. Aoife made her way past them, to the door leading to the guest rooms where she and the others stayed when they visited; she caught F’lhammin’s eye and nodded before closing the door behind herself.

The room she had been using was small, and sparsely furnished when compared with the inns in major cities: there was a bed, a nightstand, and a desk and chair only. It was not a room intended for a long term stay. Aoife helped her dodo climb on top of the bed before setting about removing her armor.

Her head whirled with memories of the evening—the longest conversation she’d held with someone in gods know how long. In normal circumstances her shyness held her tongue, even among those she considered close friends. But for some reason, when G’raha had asked about her adventures, the courage to tell him about them came welling up like a spring. He was an engaging listener, to boot—the way his eyes lit up when she recounted feats of strength and daring, and the way his ears wiggled when he laughed at moments of comic relief. The way he listened with his eyes on her, always, tail flicking back and forth behind him… It was hard not to find his mannerisms charming. His enthusiasm was practically infectious; it had made her more excited about the story she was telling, and encouraged her to see it through to its end…

Even as she turned the lamps out and climbed into bed, she couldn’t get the thought of him out of her mind. 

So long as she had him listening to her, she felt she could recount the whole of her adventures with the confidence of a practiced minstrel. They’d only just parted for the evening, and she already found herself looking forward to the next chance they had to talk.

_G’raha Tia…_

She smiled into her pillow.

_He’s not so bad after all._

**Author's Note:**

> Just to give you an idea of how weird her gear looked in ARR [here's some old glam shots](https://maguneedsalife.tumblr.com/post/613722850611871744). I loved that shirt so much but yeesh it did not match her drg stuff at all


End file.
